


teach me tenderness

by kingmakr



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, POV Second Person, Pillow Talk, Purple Prose, Talking about Kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 21:23:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15671553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingmakr/pseuds/kingmakr
Summary: Leon proposes he and Saber try something new.





	teach me tenderness

**Author's Note:**

> originally titled: ' Saber loses his ass virginity ' but that's neither here nor there

“What do you want?”

“What makes you think I want something?”

You turn in your half-sleep, facing your midnight liaison. The bed dips as it follows your every movement, and you find him watching you with long limbs pulled to his chest. His lavender hair falls like a veil hiding his eyes, but he watches you like a falcon does its prey. Like a late night affair does when he desires something so.

“You’re drilling holes into my head, _sweetheart._ ”

“I am admiring you, _lover._ ”

At that pet name, the archer strikes a sour chord at your thinning temper. You sit up and grab his wrist – the _‘animalistic side’_ Leon so criticized was showing in the candlelight. Gods, he loves to push your buttons – he revels at the chance of it.

“You think as much as you talk, which is too goddamn much. So get on with it – and cut the honey and bullshit.”

“Gods, your mouth is so vile. I swear you eat shit for breakfast.” You frown. He smiles – teasing, pulling away from your hold. Mischief sits at the center of his mouth and you feel him threatening to kiss – no, scrub – your vile mouth off your face. He loves to push your buttons – he revels at the chance of it.

He preens until you notice him turn pensive. The bed dips in another direction, following his movement as he sits at the edge of it. His head lulls forward, looking at the clothes scattered on the floor, drilling holes into them rather than you. Deep contemplation rests on his brow before he speaks.

“I was just thinking…about how boring this is all getting. We bicker, we fuck – we bicker while we fuck,” he muses. There is a forced sing-song tune to his voice as he pulls the words out, decorating his message. The words are blunt, but his delivery…not so much.

“I said cut the honey and bullshit.”

Now he is the one frowning at you – rolling his eyes at your rude interruption. He should have gotten used to your rude interruptions by now; all you ever seem to do with Leon was interrupt him if not bicker and fuck. Sometimes interrupting led to bickering and then fucking. He frowns – you smile.

“What I am _trying_ to lead up to, _lover,_ is that maybe we should try other positions.” His words, again, was blunt, but perhaps not how he delivered it. It leaves you blinking at the proposition – curious about his intent but cautious at what it entailed.

You cock an eyebrow at him: “Like?”

“Perhaps…..with me giving as much as I have received.”

Suddenly, your eyes are widening at such an idea. And by the gods, he can see the way your face is beginning to either flush or pale – you cannot tell for yourself what it's doing. He watches you – like a falcon does its prey, like a midnight affair does when he desires something so, and he is observing you. Trying to make out what your next move will be -- whether ‘yes, let’s do it’ or ‘no, not ever’ will fall from your mouth.

“You want…to fuck me ?”

“Don’t sound so incredulous. I’ve had my share of trysts where I’ve led the affair.”

You were sure he has. Leon had experienced engraved into his bones and written on his limbs. You can feel it in the way he writhes and responds beneath you. But you beneath him? At the receiving end? It wasn’t an idea that was too hard to fathom. What was hard to fathom, however, was the idea of you being able to do it without blushing, paling or making a fool of yourself in front of him. The fact you were already doing so was no good prelude to the finale, and by the gods, he can tell.

“Saber, don’t tell me you’ve never received from anyone before.”

The silence seeps in faster – deeper – with each of his questions. You have half a mind to defend yourself with some excuse about wanting –  needing – control in sex. Some story about how dominance was his language and he had difficulty relinquishing control in affairs. Something about how he can’t get it up and get off if he’s the one receiving rather than giving. The thought of it all was admittedly frightening…and yet you were also excited by the idea.

Your form below his own – him performing all the gentle things he swore you lacked. For him to finally walk his talk. For him to show the true extent of his experience. For you to know what it’s like to be inexperienced…

“I am not pressuring you…Impersonal affair or not, I still believe in communication and consent…But if you would…ever be interested…in receiving from me…I’d be nothing but gentle.”

Words – you need words, least he sees through the silence you’re giving. While his talking never seems to end, he also is painfully observant. Every word and movement – even the lack of it – does not go under his watch. Damn falcon-eyed – that’s what he is.

A heavy sigh escapes from his mouth, and suddenly you hear him shuffling for his clothes – the bed creaking loudly as his weight leaves the mattress.

“This another talk for another time. I’ll go—“

“Wait!” You turn in your half-sleep, facing your midnight liaison. The bed dips as it follows your every movement as you jump up and grab Leon by the wrist. You’ve come to know by now that you’re blushing in front of him. You speak in a voice that is almost too low and too soft to be your own.

“You said – you _promise_ to be gentle?”

He turns in his half-sleep, facing his midnight liaison in the dark. You have expected him to have a wicked smile dripping off of his lips – proud of how he’ll soon make you kneel and beg. Instead, behind lavender locks that veil his eyes, his expression is as he promised to be…gentle…kind….patient.

 

“I never thought I’d see the day you’d ask me to be gentle.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago and that's why the structure and flow are all over the place. However, I still like how it ended up being. I would stop writing in purple prose for this ship but every time Leon is in a scene, he just demands such writing ( "make it flowery and romantic " )


End file.
